


the sweetness of the forbidden fruit tempts you

by GirlFromTheRing



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Blood, Choking, Established Relationship, F/F, Improper use of desk, Kissing, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, Making Out, Neck Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlFromTheRing/pseuds/GirlFromTheRing
Summary: There's a certain thrill to kissing someone in places where one should definitely not be kissing.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Park Sooyoung | Joy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59





	the sweetness of the forbidden fruit tempts you

**Author's Note:**

> was inspired at three am??? then completed this only after ten pm the next day. I think it's a sign.
> 
> All activity is completely consensual, if that wasn't implied enough.

There's a certain thrill to kissing someone in places where one should definitely not be kissing. Joy is feeling that thrill as Irene pushes her back against her desk. Joy doesn't remember quite how it started, only that Irene had called her in and they'd gone through their usual round of flirting and Joy was more than happy to accidentally drop her pencil and bend down to pick it up, knowing full well Irene would more than appreciate it.

So she did, and Irene did, too. 

She stared at her for a few seconds, while Joy acted innocent and lifted her eyebrows slightly. It didn't really matter, both of them knew Joy was aware of her actions and the following consequences.

Irene masked indifference. Joy raised her eyebrows further, slightly widening her eyes. That worked. 

Irene had removed her glasses and then proceeded to carefully approach Joy, as if assessing her, then curled her fingers around Joy's tie. Joy smiled. Irene tugged at it, beckoning Joy closer, and once she was close enough to lose composure and stare at Irene's lips shamelessly, Irene said

"Tell me you want it."

Joy was clear on what "it" implied. Naturally, she asked, "And what is this 'it'?"

There was increased pressure on her throat from the way Irene's grip had tightened on her tie. 

"Want to find out?"

Joy didn't respond. She kissed Irene, briefly, then pulled away before she could react. 

And that is how Irene spun her around and backed her up to Irene's desk, and she kissed Joy, fiercely, unbridled, assertively. She slid herself onto Irene's desk and placed her hands on Irene's hips, pulling her closer. 

There's a certain thrill to this, she finds, knowing that anyone could walk in on them and they'd still forgone all secrecy, thrown all caution to the wind. 

Irene's lips keep taking and Joy is more than willing to keep giving, there's a hand cupping her jaw and tilting it upwards, there's teeth pulling at her nether lip and a constant, pleasant pressure at her neck as Irene still hasn't let go of her tie. 

Irene pulls away, and Joy dips her head forward as if in a daze, her lips parted and eyes hooded. Irene's undoing her tie. Joy gets comfortable on the desk, spreading her legs intentionally invitingly, hooking her foot at the back of Irene's knee and dragging her closer. 

"Easy," Irene tells her. Joy rolls her eyes. 

Once her tie is out of the way, Irene carefully places her palm on Joy's throat. She runs her fingers over her trachea, eyes focused on the ridges she feels through the skin as she drags her thumb down, stopping at the hollow of Joy's throat. She pushes down. Joy inhales. 

"Like that?" 

Joy nods. 

"Say it."

"I like that, but—"

"Higher, I know."

Joy nods again.

Irene places her other hand on Joy's thigh, where her skirt has hitched up enough for Irene to see an expanse of milky skin, soft to touch. She squeezes, once. 

She can feel Joy's eyes on her. 

"Fine," she answers the questioning gaze, then leans in to kiss Joy. 

It's a practised dance, one they coordinate with skilful ease, Joy's upper lip embraced between Irene's lips, then released, then taken right back in, except now Irene's nether lip is held within Joy's and she's biting down, which, oh, that shouldn't happen—

"Easy," Irene whispers, a soft exhale against Joy's open mouth. "Someone's eager."

"I'll show you eager."

A pair of hands on Irene's waist tug her towards, and Joy's kissing her, fast, thorough, she's nudging the back of Irene's knee with her foot and Irene gets it, yes, but she's not giving in. Joy senses this, somehow, and only moves her hand up to the back of Irene's neck, and pulls. 

Breathe, she wants to tell Joy, and Joy does that. Short, warm, gasps escape her and dust Irene, who nods, and Joy nods back. 

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Joy replies, she’s still out of breath.

“We can’t go too far.”

“We can’t go too far,” she repeats.

“Wait until we get home,” Irene presses her forehead to Joy’s, closes her eyes.

“Home.”

Joy’s lazily pecking Irene, only by convenience of their closeness, until Irene’s kissing her forcefully, pushing her back, then retreating to kiss down Joy’s jaw. She knows Joy likes this, and she would love to indulge her, but there are certain things that can’t be seen so — easy solution — Irene undoes the top three buttons of Joy’s white shirt.

“What happened to waiting until we were home?”

“Shut up,” she slips Joy’s bra strap down her shoulder and leaves a kiss on her bare shoulder. 

“Make me.”

Irene does.

There are few ways to shut Joy up when she’s talking, and using her hair to tilt her head to the side so that Irene can kiss down her jaw to her shoulder is one of them. Works every time.

Irene nips at her skin, gentle enough to prick but not enough to hurt. She’s about to take her skin between her teeth and bite, but Joy stops her. 

“Too obvious, white shirt.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Joy stretches her bra strap and aligns it with her shoulder, then releases it so that there’s a sound when it strikes her skin. Irene’s nails dig into her thigh.

“Oh,” Irene muses, and Joy does not like that look on her.

“What are you thinking?”

“You’ll find out.”

“You have that look, like you’re going to do something risky.”

Irene smiles at her, sweetly. “I am.”

Then she falls to her knees.

“Irene, I swear to fucking god, you’re not giving me head while we’re at work—”

“Be quiet.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Well,” Irene regards her, looking up, for a change. She slides her hands up Joy’s thighs, stopping where her skirt ends. “I’m not going to do anything if you’re not quiet.”

One hand slips up her skirt, pulls at the fabric of her underwear, and releases it the same way Joy did with her bra strap. Irene stands, takes her hands off Joy, and steps back.

“Hey,” Joy’s mouth is hanging ajar, she looks slightly offended. “You fucking tease.”

“You’re the one who enjoys it,” Irene shrugs.

“I mean, yes, but—”

“But what?”

Joy can’t say anything in her defence. She pouts.

Irene raises a single eyebrow.

“Will you be quiet for me?”

Joy nods.

“Speak.”

“I will be.”

“Good girl.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Joy’s lips which blooms into a grin as she reaches out to take Irene’s hand and pull her close.

She kisses her, chastely, then says, “Do what you were planning to.”

So Irene taps on Joy’s knee and asks her if she’ll hike her skirt up further, and Joy, with open excitement, does so.

Irene kisses up her knee, one hand resting on her calf and the other tracing circles on the opposite thigh. She’s sensitive, Irene knows, she makes these small noises under her breath without meaning to and it turns Irene on to an unbelievable extent, goodness, she wants to do more than leave marks on Joy’s skin, she wants her out of the damn tight skirt she insists on wearing only because it distracts Irene, she wants to spread her out on her desk and kiss down her body and tease her until she’s asking Irene nicely (she doesn’t want to make her beg) and then Irene will—

“Irene,” there’s a hand tugging at her hair, urging her back.

“Yes?” She tilts her head upwards.

“Starting to hurt, there.”

“Sorry,” she kisses the purple mark she’d left on Joy’s pale skin. “I’ll make it up to you later, baby.”

“You better.”

Irene rolls her eyes, finds another spot to blemish, or bless, that’s up to Joy. She licks over the skin once, which makes Joy shudder, then pinches the skin between her teeth and bites down, draws her canvas inward, paints it dark.

Joy likes it, more than she’d like to admit. 

Irene does it again, and again, and again, and the semblance of self-control which was stopping Joy from dragging Irene up and pinning her down on her desk just to piss her off so that she’d actually do something instead of teasing Joy was slowly starting to crumble.

“Irene?”

Irene abruptly stops, kisses the spot she’d sanctified, and stands. Her palms rest on Joy’s thighs.

“Yes?”

“I want to go home.”

She smiles, and Joy smiles too. “Me too. Is it getting too much?”

“A little.”

“Okay, do you want to do something else?”

“I, uh-” she stops herself.

“Tell me.”

“Will you cut me?”

Irene nods, slowly. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, not something too deep, just shallow enough to bleed.”

“Okay,” she studies Joy, looking for any hint of discomfort. She seems sure in her decision. “Where?”

“Here,” Joy bares her shoulder, where Irene had pushed down her shirt. “Small cut.”

“You sure it won’t show through your shirt?” 

“As long as you do a good job cleaning it up.”

Joy lifts her eyebrows, a challenge, Irene understands. 

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Joy tugs on Irene’s wrist. “Now get your useless letter opener. Who even sends letters anymore?”

“Seems like I keep it around for other purposes.”

Joy cracks a smile, and Irene picks her letter opener out from her mug of stationery. She hesitates.

“Come on,” Joy tugs at her wrist again, and Irene lifts the hand up to rest on Joy’s other shoulder. 

“Hold still,” and then she’s piercing at a shallow angle, making an incision too weak to bleed.

“I can’t,” she tells Joy, and puts the instrument down. 

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you are going to hurt me, but that’s the point.”

“I’m not sure I want to do that.”

“Irene,” she looks up at Joy’s unusually sharp tone. “You’re being careful, I’m sure you won’t mess it up.”

“I don’t know how to do this properly.”

“I know. I trust you, though.”

“Are you sure you want me to do this?”

Joy takes Irene’s hands in her own. 

“Yes, completely.”

“Okay,” Irene squeezes her hands and lets go. “If you’re sure.”

Joy hands her the paper knife. Irene drags it along the previous incision she’d made, then gradually adds pressure. Joy hisses, and there’s blood spilling from the wound. It’s not abundant, a few trails travelling slowly downward, and Irene intercepts one of them with her fingers, then puts her fingers in Joy’s mouth. 

“Tastes good?” she asks, when Joy laxens her grip on Irene’s fingers. She nods in response, and Irene laps up the remaining blood and holds Joy’s face in her hands and kisses her. She’s still bleeding, though it’s slower and reduced, Irene still holds her thumb over the wound to ease it. Joy’s eagerly licking into her mouth and pulling her closer, so Irene pushes back, and Joy’s hands are in her hair and she’s breathing her in, Irene’s thumb slips from Joy’s wound and wraps around her throat, and she’s not pressing down, not yet. 

Joy bites down on Irene’s nether lip, she exhales on Joy’s mouth as Joy tears off the skin on her lip with her teeth. 

“We can’t,” Irene’s out of breath, she removes her hand from Joy’s neck, runs her fingers over the wound.

“Yeah.”

It’s mostly clotted, she finds, considering the cut wasn’t too deep. She lifts her bra strap and genty places it back in place, then covers it with her shirt. She leaves a kiss at the hollow of Joy’s throat when she finishes buttoning her shirt. 

“Feeling okay?”

Joy slips off Irene’s desk. “Impatient, but I’ll manage.”

“You’re always impatient,” Irene brushes down her skirt, straightens out the creases, tucks her shirt in properly. 

Irene knows that Joy can do this all herself, but she likes to do it, for some reason. It had perplexed Joy the first few times, but she’d stopped questioning it after that. It was Irene’s strange way of doing things, which she’d come to learn and accept, that’s simply how she worked. 

“See you at home, then,” she slips her hands into Irene’s when she’s done tying up Joy’s hair, and brings them up to kiss Irene’s knuckles.

“Have a nice day at work.”

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what you think n thanks for reading!! <33


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